The Artist in the Ambulance
by Rulisu
Summary: Axel's suicide attempt has failed, landing him in the back of an ambulance with an EMT named Roxas stitching up his wrists. Based on the song by Thrice.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome, my adoring public!

That'd be sweet to have an adoring public...

Anyway, I was in the middle of beating my head against the wall over my other story (The lovely AkuDemy, "Sanctuary") when the idea for this AU one-shot just kinda popped into my rattled brain. I decided I might as well type it up. I really needed a break from "Sanctuary" anyway.

Not really yaoi, though there might be mindless flirting. Not sure yet.

Description: Axel's suicide attempt has failed, landing him in the back of a bright ambulance with an EMT named Roxas stitching up his wrists. Being strapped to a gurney in a moving hospital that smells like death, rubbing alcohol and latex is scary, sure. But waking up to find your savior at your bedside with a million and one questions you never wanted to answer is even worse.

A/N: This story was inspired by "The Artist in the Ambulance" from Thrice. (Hence the title) It's really an amazing song. One of my favorites. (and yes, I'm one of those people with thousands of songs on their computer that feels the need to pawn off their horrible music taste on everyone else. It's my cross to bear.)

Disclaimer: My over-active imagination is a nonprofit organization, dedicated to bringing you quality entertainment in the form of fanfiction. It does not have any rights to the Kingdom Hearts franchise. So please...don't sue.

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Lights that dance across the asphalt like camera flashes, the piercing sounds of sirens, screams and broken glass crunching under hurrying feet. Most people occasionally pass these scenes on their way home, cursing the dead as they lay beneath blue tarps for causing the auto accident and slowing them down. For Roxas, it was routine. The smell of the interior of the metal beast he saw too often, the pleading voices of people young and old, begging him not to let them die, the sight of someone else's blood on his hands at the end of almost every shift. And to think he could have been a nurse. Walk in, tell the person they'd be waiting forever and a day for the doctor, walk out. Not that difficult, not that traumatizing. But no. Roxas had decided he was perfectly fine with only completing half of med school. He thought being a paramedic would be 'fun'. After all, that's why he'd wanted to become a doctor, right? To play god for a living? Like most things in his life, Roxas had no idea what he was getting into at the time and his hasty decision was one he paid for almost every day.

Now he sat at the end of the ambulance bay behind the hospital, slowly puffing away at a menthol cigarette and rolling tiny pieces of gravel between his fingers. The automatic doors of the hospital slid open, but he paid them no mind. There was only one person who felt the irrepressible urge to annoy the shit out of him on what was sure to be the only cigarette break of the night.

"Smoking will kill ya..." piped a voice from behind him.

"Blow me." Roxas replied without a backwards glance.

"Well you're just a perky ray of sunshine this evening!" the voice exclaimed sarcastically. "What's your secret? Is it the stick up your ass? Oh it must be!"

The EMT who spoke was tall, with broad shoulders and dirty blond hair that had been cut into what he liked to call a 'stylish mullet'. Roxas thought it made him look like more of a dork than the doofy smile that was usually plastered across his boyish face. The man wasn't much younger than Roxas, though he acted like a child that had just sucked down a 2 liter bottle of Mountain Dew and eaten a pack of Pixie Stix. Truth be told, however, it was refreshing. Most of the other EMTs Roxas found himself stuck with were either bleeding imbeciles or personality-less drones. At least Demyx was fun to be around when he wasn't bouncing off the walls. Besides, he loved driving the ambulance, and Roxas hated driving that damn thing more than he hated administering IVs. And _ugh_...IVs. Something about watching a needle piercing skin like that...

"I'm going to kill you..." Roxas said jokingly, watching the last rays of sun fade behind the line of trees and tall buildings in the distance, the lights of downtown flickering to life.

"I love you too, Roxy." Demyx smiled, taking a seat on the cement, marred with tire marks. "It's getting' cold..." he said, looking around at the packed parkinglot. Roxas snapped out of his nicotine-induced trance and focused on the light breeze raising goosebumps on his bare arms.

"Yeah..." he muttered. "Tit's a bit nipply."

"You're so vulgar" Demyx said, staring at Roxas through a few strands of wispy blond hair. He only nodded in agreement. The pair sat for a while, making smalltalk about how badly movies suck nowadays, the upgrades on the new Toyota Camry (and how badly Demyx wanted one) and so on. The sounds and smells of night crept up on them slowly as Roxas reached for his third cigarette in ten minutes, ignoring Demyx's comment about him being a 'chain-smoking jackass'. Roxas thought absentmindedly as he lit his cigarette, about how the asphalt always smelled different after nightfall than it did in the blazing heat of the day. He'd only taken about three puffs when the alert box on the hips of both EMTs began to vibrate, the tiny red lights flashing rapidly.

"The vibrating box of life!" Demyx cried. "It beckons! Come, Smoky!"

Roxas rolled his eyes, smashing the cherry of his cigarette into the asphalt. He stood, bending back, popping several vertebrae into place. Tucking in his dark blue polo, he trudged behind Demyx toward the blood-red ambulance parked by the curb. He stood for a second or two, glaring up at the bright white lettering on the side before Demyx shouted at him to get into cab.

"So what's on the menu for appetizers tonight?" Roxas asked grudgingly, referring to the first call of their shift. Demyx glanced over briefly at the plasma screen of the console where it displayed the location and condition of the patient in bright green.

"Uh..." he said, glancing from the road, to the screen and back, trying to read. "Looks liiiiike... we got a suicide attempt."

"Great." scoffed Roxas.

"22 year old Caucasian male, 6'0", roughly 190 lbs, red hair, green eyes." Demyx read, making a left turn, heading towards the glowing lights of the inner city.

"And I have to _lift_ him?" cried Roxas, looking from the quickly passing scenery outside the window to his partner.

"He's not _that_ much bigger than you..." retorted Demyx. "And I'll help."

Roxas groaned and thumped his head on the window, catching glimpses of the fronts of stores with bars in the windows and punkass kids on skateboards as they passed in a multi-colored streak. Despite everything, there was something to be said about driving around in an ambulance. For one, everyone got out of your way, siren blaring (and right now it was, though the cab was for the most part, soundproof) or not. Not to mention, there was that nifty intercom feature that allowed the driver to yell at civilians who refused to get out of the way. Roxas smiled on the inside remembering the time Demyx yelled at a couple of street thugs to 'move your piece of shit ghetto-mobile'.

"Where the hell are we going?" asked Roxas, not recognizing the street they'd just turned down.

"To see the Wizard, Dorthy!" cried Demyx, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song stuck in his head.

"One of these days, MacIntyre..." Roxas mumbled, committing the ultimate taboo act of addressing Demyx by his last name. Demyx frowned, looking over at Roxas.

"Low blow, dude." he grumbled. Roxas smiled warmly, grabbing Demyx's shoulder and squeezing it.

"You know I love you, blondie." he said lightly.

"Yeah yeah..." Demyx answered, pulling into a rundown apartment complex, parking near the dumpster and turning off the siren. He sighed, rubbing his face, looking up at the roof of the cab. "You ready for this, buddy? There's gonna be a lot of blood. Dispatch said he slit his wrists."

Roxas felt bile rising in his throat and his hands went cold. Blood. He hated blood. Even in school, his stomach would churn when he sliced open a cadaver... and on a cadaver, the blood doesn't gush the way it does from a severed jugular, or slit wrists. He breathed deep, opening the door on the cab of the ambulance, letting it squeak and slam shut behind him as he stepped onto the asphalt with a crunch. There were already police squad cars parked near the sidewalk, a few officers standing on the metal steps outside.

"How bad is it?" Roxas asked a female officer with blond hair and a tiny waist.

"Could be better, could be worse. We've got him stabilized and applied towels and pressure to his wounds." replied officer L. Ryes.

"Who reported it?" Roxas asked her, making his way toward the staircase. She looked at the notes she had jotted on a flip pad.

"Uh... a neighbor reported 'blaring rock music' and my partner and I were called out on a noise violation. The door was unlocked, we came inside and..." she sighed, putting the pad back into her breast pocket. "There he was."

"Where's the neighbor now?" inquired Roxas, climbing the stairs, officer Ryes on his heels.

"Inside. His name is...uh... Marly? Marluxia? Something like that..." she muttered. Roxas nodded, stepping into the apartment. There were officers inside as well, searching the place for things like drugs and weapons. Not that there was much to search. An empty refrigerator sat in a filthy kitchen, a moldy loaf of bread on the counter beside a drainboard. There was no furniture, only a small television with a busted up antenna on top. There was a bathroom no one wanted to go into and one room.

"He's not the friendliest..." warned an officer as Roxas crossed the threshold into the room. The entire place smelled of mold, filth and cigarette smoke, but this room reeked the most. And there, on the stained and dirty carpet, lay the patient. As officer Ryes promised, there were towels on his wrists. Roxas knelt, gently pulling the towels away, feeling the resistance as the blood coagulated onto them. The gashes were deep. They'd definitely need stitches. As for the patient...despite being weary with blood-loss, he wasn't in too bad of shape.

"What's your name?" Roxas smiled at the redhead. And what an _amazing_ shade of red it was, with equally intriguing spikes to match. Roxas wondered in the back of his head how much gel it took to hold hair that long.

"Axel..." breathed the patient.

"Axel what? What's your last name?" Roxas asked, pulling a small flashlight from his EMT bag and shining it into Axel's eyes, checking for dilation.

"Cunningham. And get that fuckin' light outta my eyes..." he griped, turning his head away. Roxas pressed his fingers to the spot just above the crude slashes on Axel's wrist and watched his watch, taking his pulse.

"Where were you born, Axel Cunningham?" Roxas asked, trying to keep him conscious. Axel groaned loudly, looking at Roxas with fierce green eyes.

"This shithole town. I have a mom who hates me, an asshole father, one dead sister, an estranged brother and my childhood dream was to be a pro baseball player." he rattled off irritably. Roxas ignored him, looking over his shoulder at Demyx who was dragging a gurney up the stairs with the help of a police officer.

"You on anything tonight, Axel?" Roxas asked out of habit, not taking his eyes off the gurney's progress.

"No illegal substances, no prescription or over the counter medication. Haven't had a drop of alcohol, either. My blood type is AB negative, my favorite color is red, I had a dog once, but he got run over..." Axel continued to ramble when Roxas cut him off.

"Would you like us to get you a shirt?" he asked, looking at Axel who lay there in nothing but black boxer shorts. Axel sighed, giving up his attempt to annoy Roxas.

"No, I'm fine." he mumbled, turning his head away, too weak to do much else. "But some morphine would be fan-fucking-tastic." he said hopefully. Roxas waved to Demyx, who pushed the gurney into the room.

"I can't give you painkillers. You've lost too much blood, it might put you in a coma." he explained, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Axel's arm and squeezing the bulb. Axel stared at Roxas as if he'd just sprouted a second head.

"I tried to _kill_ myself. You really think I care about being in a coma right now?!" he cried. Roxas again ignored him. With Demyx's help, they got Axel onto the gurney, pulling the white, funny-smelling blanket up to his chin, strapped him in, and proceeded to very carefully bring it back down the stairs. A few people were standing outside, trying to see into the upstairs apartment, kept at bay by police. Women in too-short shorts and filthy tanktops, children with no shoes, shirts or manners. Roxas could almost understand why Axel had tried to off himself. One man, probably the landlord, called to Axel. Something about him still owing rent. Demyx, Roxas and several uniformed officers shot him a dirty look. Axel wished desperately that he could have flipped him off, but his arms were strapped to his sides on the gurney.

They pulled Axel across the choppy asphalt, bringing him around to the back of the ambulance. Roxas tugged on the doors, stepping up into the darkness. He flipped on the light and helped Demyx load the gurney, locking it into place. When the doors were shut, Demyx went around to the front, climbing into the driver's seat. Demyx sat on the small bench to Axel's right, shuddering when he thought of the impending task of sewing this guy back up. Axel was too busy looking around the interior. The whole thing was blinding white, and there were cabinets with Plexiglas fronts. Axel could see inside and his eyes wandered over the vast selection of sterilized instruments, all in their own neat blue packaging. There were face masks, gloves, oxygen masks and plastic tubing of all lengths and widths. Roxas began pulling instruments of his own from the cabinet beside him, cursing when the ambulance hit a bump and his head ricocheted off the bright red biohazard box behind him. Axel's eyes widened when he saw Roxas pull out an IV needle and bag of clear fluid.

"What are you going to do with that?" he asked fearfully. Roxas didn't even glance at him as he began rigging the needles and tubes.

"This is an IV." he said, again speaking out of routine. "I'm going to insert it into your vein and - ..." Roxas began when Axel cut him off.

"I know what the needle is, what the hell is in the bag?" he asked. Roxas squeezed it gently.

"It's a saline fluid that's going to help restore some of your electrolytes." he explained.

"And that nasty looking needle?" Axel inquired. At this, Roxas piqued an eyebrow.

"You have a lip piercing... and you're afraid of needles?" he asked, referring to the shining silver ring shoved through the left side of Axel's bottom lip.

"What, you think I watched them do this? Hell no. I closed my eyes and cried for my mother. I hate needles." Axel squirmed.

"So do I. But don't worry. This wont stay in. The silver part is used for insertion, then a thin plastic tube is left to administer the medication." Roxas said soothingly.

"Yummy." grumbled Axel. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as Roxas removed the straps holding his arms. He gently turned over Axel's arm to reveal the soft inside of the crease in his arm where it bent. Roxas rubbed the area firmly with an alcohol swab. He lifted the needle carefully with a gloved hand and prepared to stick it into Axel's arm. He stared at the vein, blue and pulsing just below the surface. It was thick, too. Holding his breath, Roxas pushed the tip of the needle to Axel's skin just as Demyx hit another bump. Roxas groaned exasperatedly and Axel whimpered.

"Sorry, dudes." came Demyx's apology.

"Imbecile!" Roxas called playfully to his partner, looking back to the bared flesh of Axel's arm. Again, he pressed the needle to his skin, pushing harder and harder until the skin broke with a soft popping sound that could only be heard in a completely silent room. He pushed a bit harder until he saw the clear fluid in the tube begin to cloud red near the opening of the needle, confirming that he'd hit the vein. Roxas quickly pulled out the metal needle, leaving only the soft plastic. He secured the IV, breathing heavily. Why did they always, _always _need an IV?!

"Alright..." he sighed. "I'm going to have to stitch you up. I need you to remain calm, okay? It will make the whole process go much faster and easier..." Roxas pleaded.

"You're going to _what_?!" cried Axel. "Nu uh! No way! I don't want stitches! Can't you give me an over-sized bandage or something?" he asked desperately. Roxas sighed, knowing this would be a challenge.

"Your cuts are too deep and you're still bleeding. Either we stitch them up, or the doctor will cauterize them when we get to the hospital." Roxas explained.

"Cauterize?" asked Axel.

"Burn them shut." Roxas said irritably.

"Stitch me." Axel said quickly. Roxas sighed, pulling the towel off of the wrist closest to him, on the arm with the IV. Blood was still trickling rather rapidly from the wound, but Roxas tried not to think about it. He pulled the large, curved needle from his kit and ran a piece of nylon surgical string through it, beginning work on Axel's wrist immediately. In and out he wove, in an 'x' pattern across the gash. When one wrist was finished and wiped clean, Roxas awkwardly made his way around the front of the gurney and sat on the bench on the other side, stitching that wrist up as well. Blood poured through his fingers as he worked. Roxas could feel the salad he'd had for lunch beginning it's ascent to his mouth, and he forced it back down.

"Not good with blood, are you?" Axel asked with a laugh. Roxas looked to him, whiter than a ghost and shook his head 'no', afraid to open his mouth. "Then why become an EMT?" Axel asked.

"Because I get paid very well to scrape people off the pavement when they've been shot, ejected from cars or run over. Blood, guts, gore and the occasional sob story aside, it's a pretty sweet gig." Roxas mumbled, tying a finishing knot in Axel's stitches. Axel winced as Roxas wiped away the last smears of blood from his wrist. He disposed of the needle in the biohazard box, and the bloody wipes in a blue trash bag. He sighed, leaning back against the wall of the ambulance, zoning out on the back of Demyx's head where it poked out from behind the seat.

"So I'm gonna live?" Axel asked, breaking Roxas's trance. He stared at the man, a few years younger than himself and nodded.

"Yeah..." he muttered, looking back at the interior of the cab. "You're gonna live."

The ambulance rocked gently as it sped down the road, the tubes and other odds and ends clinking, the sound of the tires and Demyx tapping on the steering wheel were the only breaks in the endless silence.

"Why'd you do it?" mumbled Roxas absently, not taking his eyes off the red stoplight they were sitting in front of.

"Come again?" asked Axel. Roxas tore his eyes away, settling them on Axel.

"Why'd you try to kill yourself?" he asked. Axel rolled his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I don't even know you. Why the fuck should I tell you?" he asked defensively.

"Because you're going to be asked the same thing by countless psychologists, psychiatrists, doctors and over-paid government drones collecting your insurance information." Roxas said. He leaned in and whispered to Axel "But I'm the only one who's gonna genuinely give a damn about your answer." he said, then leaned back to rest his head against the wall again. Axel thought for a moment, staring around the harshly lit cabin, then at Roxas.

"A lot of shit." he said finally. Roxas nodded.

"Fair enough." he mused. There was more awkward silence in the back, more sound of the tires on the road when Demyx began humming an obnoxious song. The humming turned to singing, and Roxas sat up and leaned forward, smacking Demyx on the back of the head.

"Silence!" he commanded. Demyx only giggled and went back to humming. Roxas sat back down on the cold, hard, faux leather bench. He sighed deeply, desperately needing a cigarette and some rest, and began picking the dirt out from under his fingernails.

"You're not gonna try it again, are you?" he asked Axel quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. Axel turned his head to look at Roxas, strands of red hair falling in his stunning green eyes.

"Naw..." he sighed. "I'm good off the dying for a while."

Roxas nodded, looking back out through the front window of the ambulance. He could see that they were nearing the entrance to the ambulance bay, and he pulled a metal bar on the gurney upright, hanging the bag of saline from it.

"Alright, Mr. Cunningham. We've reached the hospital. We're going to wheel you inside and then the doct-..."

"I'm not..." Axel said loudly, cutting Roxas off. "I'm not Mr. Cunningham. My father was Mr. Cunningham. Call me Axel..." he murmured, looking away from Roxas. The EMT nodded, patting Axel's hand where it sat under the starchy blanket.

"My wrists hurt." Axel complained. "I can't have an Ibuprofen or something?" he winced. Roxas thought about it and nodded, watching the lights of the hospital come closer and closer as Demyx pulled the ambulance into place beside the curb.

"I'll make sure you get something." he soothed. The ambulance came to a stop, Demyx stepping out of the driver's seat to help Roxas pull Axel out of the back. The metal double doors flew open and a rush of cold air hit Axel in the face, making him wrinkle is small nose and pull the blanket over his head. A zing ran down Roxas's spine when he saw this. As sick as it seemed to him, he couldn't help thinking how cute it was. And just how twisted did that make Roxas? A 25 year old EMT watching a 22 year old suicide and thinking about how badly he wanted to take him home as an adorable pet and playmate? And to top it all off, they were both _men_? Maybe that weekend in Cancun fucked with his head more than he thought. Roxas recalled the images of the beach in a cloak of moonlight with that lovely, pale, silver-haired German boy standing in the water, waves breaking against his legs, bare as the day he was born. Riku had been his name? The kid didn't even speak English, but damn could he...

"Roxas!" Demyx called, breaking his trance. Roxas shook his head, brown spikes swaying. "Need some help with this!"

Roxas gripped the edge of the gurney and helped Demyx pull it towards the sliding doors of the hospital where several nurses waited to take Axel to his room. The aforementioned redhead still had the blanket over his face. Roxas handed Axel's chart to a male nurse with long, black dreadlocks and fierce eyebrows and sideburns. There was definitely a reason they never stuck him in the pediatric ward. He looked over it, turning up one sheet of paper, then the other, nodding to himself as he read.

"The fuck is this world coming to?" he griped, setting the clipboard and papers on Axel's chest. "Take him to ICU, be sure to mark him as a Self-Inflicted, hide all the sharp things..." he told the nurse to his left. Axel scoffed from under the blanket.

"I'm _right here_." he complained. The nurses ignored him. Roxas watched as they wheeled Axel into the hospital and down the hall. He disappeared through a set of wooden double doors, his bright hair still visible, even at a distance.

"Thanks ya much, Xiggy." Demyx smiled at the burly nurse. The man glared at the two EMTs, and he too walked back into the hospital right as Demyx and Roxas's alert boxes began to vibrate.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Axel woke slowly, his senses assaulted immediately with the things he hated most about hospitals. The sounds and smells. The monitor next to his bed was beeping, but so were the monitors of about 12 other patients. And somewhere, an alarm was going off. Then there was the smell. The whole placed reeked of sterilizing agent and sick. And once you get the smell of latex in your nose, it's not coming out for a long while. He opened one eye slowly, shutting it again when he found himself staring into a halogen light in the ceiling. He groaned quietly, just a tiny hint of sound escaping his lips.

"Those fuckers are bright, I know..." said a voice from his bedside. Axel sat up quickly, wishing he hadn't. A sharp pain wracked his head and he fell back onto the flat pillow, still looking in awe at the owner of the voice. It was Roxas. He sat in a chair near the silver tray of 'personal belongings' that had been lifted off of Axel while he was in a painkiller-induced sleep. The only things on the tray were Axel's lipring and a twisted hemp rope ankle bracelet that had been cut. Roxas was sitting cross legged, with a Styrofoam coffee cup from the kitchen in the basement, watching Axel intently. Axel stared at the blue-eyed EMT for a moment, then sat up in his bed, leaning over the edge of it as much as the IV would allow.

"Hey I uh... never caught your name last night." he said to Roxas.

"It's Roxas." he replied.

"What's your last name?" Axel asked.

"Lovecchio." Roxas answered. "It's Italian..."

"Well, Roxas Lovecchio..." Axel began "You're freakin' me out." he whispered. Roxas only smiled, running his finger absently along the rim of his coffee cup.

"I just wanted to make sure they gave you something for the pain." he said quietly. Axel beamed and motioned with his thumb over his shoulder at the half-drained bag of fluid hanging on a silver pole beside the gurney.

"They gave me morphine!" he said happily. "And you said I couldn't have any..."

"Well you couldn't, at the time." Roxas defended himself. Axel scowled and leaned back against his pillows.

"Well, I'm fine, I got my painkiller, so what else do you want?" he asked Roxas.

"To talk." The EMT answered lightly. Axel looked at him strangely.

"About?" he asked slowly.

"You, your life, you know...stuff." replied Roxas. At this, Axel laughed loudly, drawing the attention of two of the nurses.

"My life...right. Shouldn't you be out saving people?" he said. Roxas shook his head, looking down at his coffee.

"My shift ended two hours ago." he said.

"And you've been sitting here, waiting for me to wake up since then?" Axel asked. Roxas nodded with a smile. "Wow... I don't know if I should feel violated or flattered."

"Both?"suggested Roxas. Axel smiled, nodding and looking around the room.

"Alright...my life. Let's see...uh, I was born here. In this hospital, no less. And to a couple of mean, sadistic workaholics that would do nothing but ignore and abuse my siblings and I for years to come..." he began.

"Siblings?" asked Roxas.

"Yeah. My twin brother Reno and little sister Elena." he nodded sadly.

"You have a twin?" Roxas asked, thinking about how lovely the twin must be.

"That I do. He looks just like me, though his features are a bit more...manly, I guess. Oh, ya see these?" he asked, pointing to the identical upside-down teardrops under each of his eyes. Roxas nodded. "_Not_ a tattoo." Axel said proudly.

"No shit?" asked Roxas.

"No shit. It's a birthmark. Reno has a set, too. Right on the side of his face, by his eyes. They look like pieces of hair that have curled around. It's really cool. 'Cept his are red." Axel explained. Roxas leaned forward in his seat to better look at the markings.

"That's a wicked birthmark." he commented.

"Yeah..." said Axel. "Got a lot of flack for it when I was a kid, though. Reno and I both. Our hair didn't really help, either."

"Holy shit, that's natural?!" exclaimed Roxas.

"This color?" Axel asked, pulling on a chunk of brilliant vermilion. "As natural as an alcoholic beatin' his wife and kids." he smiled.

"I can't imagine there being two people with hair like that..." Roxas breathed.

"Yep. It's a trip. Though Reno's hair is a bit more orange-ish. And a helluva lot longer." said Axel.

"Longer than that?" Roxas asked, amazed and reffering to Axel's shoulder-length hair.

"The top layer isn't long. He crops it all short and spikes it out everywhere, then at the base of his neck there's this long piece that hangs all the way down to his ass. He keeps that part in a ponytail. It's great!" Axel smiled at the memory of his brother. "I've never done a damn thing to _my_ hair, though. Everyone thinks this is all gel and god knows what else, but I just brush it in the morning and BAM! Spikes." he grinned. Roxas chuckled, sipping his coffee.

"So this Reno guy...your brother... you don't talk?" he asked.

"How do you know that?" Axel questioned.

"Mmm...when you were mocking me last night, I believe you used the term 'estranged'." Roxas replied sweetly.

"Good game." mumbled Axel. "Yeah... Reno and I don't talk much anymore."

"And why not?" asked Roxas. Axel looked at him with the urge to glare, then took to staring at the ceiling.

"Because of what I did at his wedding a few years ago." he mumbled.

"What did you do?" asked Roxas, intrigued. A huge smile broke out on Axel's face.

"I got rip roarin' drunk, yeah? Took the _biggest _piss...right in the champagne glass pyramid on the main table at the reception." he giggled. Roxas choked a bit on his coffee as he started to laugh along.

"Wow. Nice goin'!" he commended Axel.

"Yeah, but that bitch wife of his doesn't want him talking to me anymore. I'm a 'bad influence'. Psychotic whore..." he mumbled, looking off to the side. Roxas nodded.

"And your sister?" he asked. Axel got quiet, looking around the room, not looking at Roxas.

"Beautiful girl. Long blond hair and a wicked personality..." came his reply. Then his face fell. "She died." he muttered. "Her best friend was drunk...she was the one driving and..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the rest.

"I'm sorry, man." Roxas said.

"It's alright." Axel waved away his apology. "What about you? You got brothers and sisters?"

"One brother. Sora." Roxas answered.

"Not much to say about him or what?" Axel inquired.

"Not really." Roxas shook his head. "He stays to himself. Has a small karate school in a stripmall a few miles from here, teaches sword handling on the side."

"Fascinating." Axel murmured.

"Yeah. Sora the karate master and Roxas the paramedic. I dunno how the hell that happened, but it happened."

"There are worse things in life, dude." Axel chuckled. "You don't wanna know what I did for a living."

Roxas's eyebrows shot up as ideas ran through his head. Some of them on the more risqué side. Axel _did _have the body to be a male stripper...

"And what might that be?" he asked, sipping his coffee to hide his red cheeks, though Axel wasn't really looking.

"Dude, you've been inside my apartment, you won't believe me." Axel said.

"Try me." Roxas dared him.

"I worked for a bank." Axel sighed. "In the mortgage department, as a loan processor."

"I'm so sorry." Roxas cringed. "After the economy slid, man...the housing market..."

"Yeah... 'tanked' is an understatement." Axel said grudgingly. "I got laid off. Not enough loans, too many processors. They shut down whole branches. I tried my luck at being a convenience store clerk around the corner from my place but after the third time I was robbed at gunpoint, I decided a change in scenery was in order." he groaned, stretching carefully so not to disturb the IV still feeding painkiller and saline into his veins.

"And then?" Roxas asked, taking another sip.

"And then..." Axel chuckled. "I became a waiter at a male strip club." he beamed. Roxas choked on his coffee. "_I_ knew_ it!_" he thought.

"It wasn't for long, though." Axel mumbled.

"So all of this and then what...you just decided you were better off dead?" Roxas asked.

"Oh there was more to it than that, _mi amigo_." Axel corrected him.

"Such as?" asked the EMT.

"Well let's see... I had to sell all my furniture so I could eat, my cat ran away, I had no phone, no cable and no running water, I had no job. My rent was three months late and so was the bitch that claimed her bastard child was mine even though I'd given up women months before she even became pregnant..." Axel rambled.

"'Given up women'?" Roxas asked.

"Yeah. Given up women. Where was I? Ah yes...my family refused to help me, my mother found out I was bi and _lord _was that the straw that broke that camel's back..." continued Axel.

"Woah woah woah... you're bi?" Roxas asked, incredulously. Axel stared at him.

"Uh...yeah. Bi. Bisexual? I swing both ways, I like women, I like men...need any more clarification?" Axel asked. Roxas shook his head.

"Moving on...my car was being repossessed, I owed payroll advance companies thousands of dollars, my apartment kept getting broken into, work was scarce...it just wasn't a pretty sight." sighed Axel. Roxas stared at him, his blue eyes large.

"Wow." he croaked.

"Yeah." breathed Axel. "What about you? You're an EMT. Any traumatizing tales?" he asked.

"Uh... just the usual. Bloody car crashes and meth houses." Roxas mumbled. He sat for a moment, staring at the young man in front of him, and a spark lit his eyes. "You smoke, right?" he asked. Axel looked up at him from the bed.

"Like a fuckin' chimney, why?" he asked.

"Let's go have us a smoke, then." Roxas beamed. Axel stared at him hopefully.

"We can do that?" he asked. Roxas nodded.

"Yeah...get your gown on and let's go."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

But alas!

This is not the end!

There's another chapter.

Even though I said it would be a one-shot.

I'm a terrible person!!

cries


	2. Chapter 2

Righto...

So I know I said this would be a one-shot, but I'm thinkin' I'm gonna make it into a two- parter. My sister is gonna hate me for 'walking away' from "Sanctuary" for the time being but _she_ isn't the one that sat down and typed up 8 friggin' chapters in 3 days!! There just comes a point when you need a vacation, yeah?

Disclaimer time!!

I don't own Kingdom Hearts, nor did I come up with it, nor do I make money off of it. I only twist it into my own sick little story for the entertainment of my sister and those who actually read my stories.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sky was overcast and the morning cool as Roxas and Axel headed outside. Axel, unlike most patients, had no problem wearing the revealing gown outside of the room. He had his boxers on still from the night before, though it still amused him when the occasional female (and even male) nurse would turn to watch him walk down the hall, his perfectly plump and shaped butt hanging out the back of the white hospital garb. The only thing that bothered him was having to drag the mobile IV stand with him, the tall silver pole on wheels rattling across the tile of the lobby, the bag of clear fluid swinging at the top like a metronome. The pair said down on a cool cement bench in the designated smoking area outside the hospital and Roxas pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Axel stared at him.

"Menthol?" he asked. Roxas gave him a blank stare and nodded.

"Yeah...so?" he inquired. Axel laughed loudly.

"Dude...they put like... fiberglass in those things!" he said.

"Naw. They took the fiberglass out. Now there's just a chemical inside that crystallizes your lungs." Roxas corrected him.

"Well... how nice of them to remove the fiberglass." Axel said, taking the cigarette Roxas offered him. He stared at the little green lines surrounding the filter as he lit it, taking a puff and exhaling, watching the gray clouds through the smoke.

"God, I can't wait to get this fuckin' thing outta me..." he complained, scratching irritably at the area around the IV. Roxas chuckled. "Oh, this is funny to you?" asked Axel.

"It's not that, it's just... I hear that same line all the time around here." smiled the EMT.

"So I'm not the only one who hates having IVs." Axel said.

"Well, I hear it more often from pregnant women, but yes... the occasional IV recipient as well." he laughed. Axel laughed along, taking another drag from the cigarette, watching Roxas as he puffed away on his own cancer stick.

"What's your favorite color?" Axel asked suddenly. Roxas frowned at him as he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"My what?" he asked.

"Favorite color." Axel reiterated. "You already know mine."

"I don't really have one." Roxas said after a moment of thought.

"Oh bull!" cried Axel. "Everyone has a favorite color."

"I don't." Roxas shook his head.

"You mean when you were a kid, and you got a brand new box of Crayons, there wasn't that one special Crayon you grabbed and just went shit nuts insane coloring _every single picture_ with?" Axel asked.

"Not really." Roxas said, taking another drag.

"Freak." Axel chuckled, staring at the leaves on the sidewalk. "What about your favorite band?" he asked.

"Alright, why so nosy?" Roxas asked, looking at Axel, who shrugged.

"Well, you asked a ton of questions, I don't have the right to ask a ton of questions, too?" he asked.

"Metallica." Roxas sighed. Axel laughed again.

"Shenanigans!" he cried.

"I'm serious!" Roxas defended.

"So am I!" Axel shot back. "You are so _not_ a Metallica kinda guy!"

"So what 'kinda guy' am I?" Roxas asked, a smile on his beautiful face.

"I...don't know..." Axel chuckled. "Bach, maybe? Or Dido."

"Bach..." Roxas shook his head. "No."

Axel leaned back a bit, staring at Roxas, puffing slowly on his cigarette and smiling.

"Metallica sold out anyway." he said.

"_Pre-_ 'St. Anger'! Every time someone talks about liking Metallica, it's always pre-'St. Anger'." Roxas stuttered. "You should know that. No one likes that album or anything after it."

"This is true. But your music taste still sucks." Axel mumbled, pleased that he was frustrating Roxas.

"I like Ozzy, too." mumbled the defeated EMT. "And what about _you_? Huh?"

"Mmm... good question, _mien fruend_." he mused. "Ima say it's a tie between three."

"Which three?" demanded Roxas.

"Tool, Led Zeppelin and Placebo." Axel smiled, nodding and taking a drag, quite proud of his superior taste in tunes. Roxas shook his head.

"I've heard of Led Zeppelin, but the other two sound fruity." he smiled. Axel flipped him off.

"Favorite country?" he asked, changing the topic of questioning. Roxas stared up at him curiously.

"I've only ever been to Mexico and England from here." he mumbled. "But...I'd give my right arm to visit New Zealand." he smiled.

"Ah..." breathed Axel. "Wonderful place. Lovely people, gorgeous climate, lavish beaches. Love new Zealand."

"How many countries have you _been to_?" Roxas asked.

"My family traveled a lot when I was a kid." Axel mumbled.

"Military?" inquired Roxas.

"Heh...not quite." Axel said ruefully.

"I _knew_ it!" Roxas cried, his eyes widening. Axel looked at him nervously.

"Knew what?" he asked.

"'Cunningham'. As in _THE_ Cunningham!" cried the EMT. Axel sat upright and looked around anxiously.

"I dunno what you're talkin' about, dude." he muttered.

"Your old man was Alister Cunningham, wasn't he? The oil tycoon." Roxas said in awe. Axel hung his head.

"It wasn't as great as you'd think. The more money you have, the more problems you have as a family. Comes with the territory. It's blood money anyway, that's why even when I was broke and losing everything I never asked for a dime of it. My dad did a lot of shit no human being ever should. We never made a red cent from that oil company. It was owned by my uncle and he got all of it." Axel sighed.

"So the company..." Roxas began.

"Was a cover-up." Axel finished his thought. "It was fabricated to launder mafia money."

Roxas let out a low whistle. Axel nodded.

"Yeah, try having _that_ on your conscience." he mumbled. "And you never answered my question." his voice perked up.

"What question?" Roxas asked, still a bit shocked to discover he was talking to the son of a feared mob boss.

"What's the worst you've seen as an EMT?" Axel asked. Roxas thought for a moment, recalling the memory of some of the worst scenes he'd walked into. Broken bones sticking out of flesh and bullet wounds flashed through his mind. That's when his jumbled thoughts landed on a particular moment in time.

"Few years ago..." he said, pulling another cigarette out of the box, handing another one to Axel. "When I was just starting out, we got a call. Demyx and I. It was to the absolute _worst_ part of town.." he grimaced.

"Worse than where I live?" Axel asked.

"This place made your apartment look like a five-star resort." Roxas growled. "A neighbor called the police and reported a foul smell coming out of the apartment next to hers. She said she could hear a child crying inside..." he continued, Axel watching him intensely as he spoke. "When we got there, the police had already broken down the door and the coroner was set up in his van outside, making his report. The woman was inside in a body bag, her 3 year old daughter locked in a room near the back of the apartment. The woman had died of a meth overdose, and the kid hadn't had food or water in days. She was in pretty bad shape when we got there..." Roxas breathed.

"And..." Axel urged, completely engaged in the story.

"And there was nothing we could do. We got her on the electrolyte fluids, we managed to raise her blood pressure, but..." a tear began to form behind Roxas's blue eyes. "But we were too late." he shook his head, looking to Axel. "It was the first time I'd ever had anyone die on me. And that's not even what bothered me the most. It was the fact that it was a kid, ya know? She couldn't help herself. Every other call I'd gotten before then was..." he struggle for words. "You know like... shoot outs between gang members and prostitutes that got sliced up by crazies, drug addicts in alleys, teenagers taking their angst out on themselves and their parents' bottles of medication. Those people _had_ a choice...that little girl didn't. My only solace that day came from _Demyx,_ of all people. He told me that it was better she died. Said she would have wound up like her mother anyway. I didn't fully believe him, but to keep from breaking down in the back of the ambulance..." he sighed. "I had to turn off the part of my brain that gave a damn." he muttered sadly, taking a long drag.

"I'm sorry." muttered Axel, all traces of cockiness completely gone from his soft voice.

"Don't worry 'bout it." Roxas said dismissively. Axel looked the older man over, every crease in his navy blue EMT polo, ever dip and curve along his back. He really was beautiful, just... aged.

"I...uh..." Axel began, looking for the right words. "I'm glad you were the one that responded last night." he muttered. Roxas looked up at him from behind a cloud of smoke.

"You are?" he asked softly. Axel nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah I am. You're one of the only people who's given a damn about me in a long time..." he chuckled. "And one of the very few people left in the world who still act human." he finished in a whisper, looking into Roxas's huge blue eyes.

"Thank you." Roxas breathed.

"Right back at ya." Axel smiled. They finished their cigarettes and headed back inside in silence. The only sound from either of them was the rattling of the wheels of the IV stand against the floor. Axel returned to his room and found a plate of steaming cafeteria food, as promised by one of the nurses. He couldn't help but gag at the sight. He bid Roxas goodbye for the day after his newfound friend promised to be back later to check up on him.

Roxas walked slowly down the halls of the hospital and out into the parkinglot, climbing into his black Dodge Neon. He stared for a moment at the hospital, and it's many floors, watching the 10th floor, where Axel had been moved. He was out of ICU now, but being held for psychiatric evaluation and to be sure his antibiotics weren't going to make him sick. Something about his blood type being too rare to pair it with anything surefire. Roxas drove home in silence, neglecting to turn on his favorite radio station and listen to blaring guitar chords from hair bands spanning the 80's. All he could think about was Axel. He was different somehow. Maybe it was his odd appearance or his ability to genuinely not give a damn about the world around him and what everyone thought. Or maybe it was the way he was so full of life after nearly losing it the night before.

Roxas pulled into the driveway of his home, making a mental note to trim the tree in the front yard. He climbed out of the car, and locked it. Walking up the small sidewalk to the front door, he pulled his house keys from the pocket of his black Dickies work pants, and pushing the key into the lock. He twisted it, activating the tumblers inside, and turned the knob. The Bob Marley keychain clattered against the painted wood of the front door as he pushed it open, flicking the switch on the wall. Setting his black backpack full of emergency supplies and papers on the floor, he crossed the room to his computer. Shaking the mouse, he brought it out of sleep mode. Downsizing several IM windows, Roxas pulled up Limewire, watching it start up slowly as he closed other programs to make the process easier on his aged computer. Sighing deeply, still thinking about the boisterous redhead, he typed "Placebo" into the "Artist" column and hit the search button. Bringing up another search window, he repeated the process, typing in "Tool", instead. Within moments, the screen was filled with the titles of close to twenty or thirty songs. Highlighting a large group of them, Roxas hit the download button and headed into the kitchen to prepare another salad. He kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up on the desk, watching the blue bars filling, the 'percentage completed' increasing, and ate his salad in silence, vowing that one day, he'd stop pirating music. When the files were finished downloading, Roxas transferred them to the laptop he used solely as a portable music player with incredible sound, and carried it into the bathroom.

Setting the computer on the smooth counter, Roxas stripped off his shirt and the rest of his clothes. He reached behind the curtain and turned the shower on. As the bathroom quickly filled with steam, Roxas put the new songs on his Winamp and hit "shuffle". He stepped into the shower, he squeezed shampoo into his hand and began running his fingers through his hair, the suds slipping down his tired body as the haunting notes of the intro to "Running up that Hill" floated into his ears. It was soothing, but sad. So much like Axel's voice. The music seemed to surround him and caress every tender inch of his skin as the warm water did, as he wished Axel's fingertips would. The song progressed, chord after chord wrapping Roxas's mind in ecstasy as his hands slid down his smooth stomach. Axel's gorgeous eyes and sultry voice throbbed in the back of his mind like the music through his body. What Roxas wouldn't give to have him standing there right now. Blissfully naked and wet, eyes shining like the crystalline droplets that would hang from his long lashes. Roxas imagined the line of water running from his neck, down his chest and over every plane and crease in his stomach. He could almost feel Axel's strong fingers twisting in his hair, pulling gently, bringing him closer to those beautiful rosebud lips and that shining lipring that added to his deviant flair. He thought about kissing those lips, his tongue sliding over them, feeling Axel's return the favor. In his mind, Roxas pressed his own lips to Axel's chest, gently licking up the water on his neck with gentle flicks of the tip of his tongue. He could hear Axel's heavy breathing in his ear, feel his glorious hands on his body. So large and strong. And those arms...

Roxas's eyes flew open as his stomach flip-flopped when the image of Axel's slashed wrists skid through his mind like a car across black ice. He gasped, pressing a shaking hand to the wall of the shower, water dripping from the tips of his hair and his nose. He breathed raggedly, the music in the background now nothing but noise. With trembling fingers, he turned the water off and stood there, dripping and breathing heavily, hearing the water drops fall all around him. He pulled back the curtain and stepped on the rug, grabbing a towel from the rack and rubbing his hair dry. He hit a few buttons on the keyboard, pausing the music. He stood for a moment in the bathroom, his towel around his shoulders, his body growing cold as air from the vent above blasted him with an artificial breeze. In the pocket of his discarded pants, his work phone began to vibrate. He picked up the pants and began grabbing at clumps of dark fabric, trying to find the pocket. When he had, he pulled the phone from it, hitting the 'answer' button.

"Roxas?" came the prepubescent voice of the head dispatcher. Roxas was still struggling to contain his breathing.

"Yeah, Zex?" he asked.

"We're short on people and there's some huge sporting event on the other side of town and they've asked for more paramedics on stand-by." Zexion explained.

"Okay...?" Roxas said, desperately hoping they weren't going to...

"We need you to head out to the stadium with Demyx. I know you were just in here, but we'd really appreciate it." said the man on the other line.

"Yeah..." sighed Roxas. "Yeah that's cool. I'll be there." he said.

"Thank you!" chirped Zexion, hanging up on his end. Roxas pushed the 'end' button on the phone and dropped it into the pile of clothes on the floor, thumping his head against the wall.

"Dammit..." he whispered. He glanced downward. With another groan, he thumped his head against the wall again.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Axel had finished his less-than-appetizing breakfast and had taken to browsing through a muscle car magazine he'd lifted from the lobby downstairs. He was just about to start an article about the 're-invented' engine on the new Mustang when the patient phone rang on the small shelf next to his bed. He glanced at the clock with a flicker of apple-green eyes. It read '8:15 am'. Frowning at the thought of what kind of person would even be _awake _this early, let alone calling, he picked up the receiver on the 4th ring.

"Madame Damnation's House of Cuts, Sluts 'N Pain. Patron speaking." he rattled off into the mouthpiece, gnawing carefully on an abnormally hard biscuit. There was silence on the other end, then came a voice.

"Axel?" it asked hopefully. Axel began choking on crumbs of the biscuit.

"Reno?!" he cried. "Reno!"

"Axel! Oh my god, you're _alive_!" cried the exuberant redhead on the other line. Axel laughed, warmth spreading through his chest at the sound of his beloved brother's voice. He leaned back in his bed, watching the feeble light filter through the clouds outside his window and glance off the glossy cover of the magazine resting on his chest.

"Of course I'm alive. Who the hell else would answer the phone like that?" he chuckled.

"Oh Jesus, I'm so happy you're okay!" Reno sputtered into the phone. Axel beamed.

"Hey, how the hell did you know I was here?" he asked.

"Oh uh...Rufus told me." Reno answered him.

"Rufus? As in Rufus Shinra, your _boss_?" asked Axel.

"Yeah. You know we're close. One of his golfing buddies is a doctor at that hospital, yeah? Said he saw your name in a pile of papers." Reno explained.

"And he just assumed it was me?" Axel inquired.

"How many people name their kids 'Axel'?" Reno defended.

"Good game, Reno. So uh... what else did he say?" Axel asked nervously.

"Not much. Just that you were brought there by ambulance from that pit you call home and that you were in the Intensive Care Unit." Reno listed. "What the hell happened, Axel?" he asked.

"I just...nothing." Axel muttered.

"Tell me. Don't make me come down there and beat your ass. _You know I will._" Reno threatened. Axel gulped, knowing full well that Reno would make good on that threat. He had before.

"Itriedtokillmyself." Axel mumbled in one long stream of sound.

"In English, damn you!" demanded Reno. Axel sighed deeply, shutting his eyes tightly, wondering if the beating he'd receive from his twin would be less intense if he told him, or if he withheld the information.

"I tried to kill myself." he sighed. There was utterly shocked silence on the other line, then Reno made a noise that sounded like a strangled cough.

"You what?" he whimpered softly, not at all angry.

"I'm sorry, Reno. I know that's not what you wanted to hear but...you know...things got rough." Axel muttered, biting his lip, feeling ashamed for what he did for the first time since he'd made the decision.

"Axel... how _could_ you? Do you have any idea what losing you would do to me?" Reno pleaded. "I already lost Elena! And you go and make a selfish decision like that?!" he choked.

"I'm _alive_, Reno. I had a moment of weakness and I'm not gonna do it again, I promise. I _swear_." Axel tried to diffuse the situation.

"Why didn't you come stay with me?" Reno asked, his voice cracking as tears formed in his eyes. "I could have taken care of you. You _know_ that!" he cried.

"Because your wife hates me, Reno. And besides...you have a life. You're gonna be starting a family. I can't keep intruding on people and putting _their_ lives on hold because I can't pull _mine_ together!" Axel spat into the phone.

"Axel, it's not like that. You're family. You're the _only_ family I have left. And Tifa hates everyone, okay? It's just...who she is. It doesn't matter anyway, she's always out spending my money, she's never home. Please Axel, come stay with us for a while, okay?" Reno begged.

"Reno..." Axel whined, pleading with his brother.

"Axel, no! I'm going to talk to the doctors working on your discharge and when they O.K you to leave, I'm gonna come pick you up and bring you home with me for a while. We'll pay off your debt and get you back on your feet, I promise." Reno rambled.

"You can't afford to pay off my debts, man." Axel huffed.

"Business has been exceptional lately, and Rufus is giving me one of his shares in the company. I'll be making double, almost triple what I already make. Tifa and I are even looking into buying a bigger house, maybe a new car." Reno countered.

"What have I told you about buying a house right now, Reno?!" Axel snapped, the loan officer in him shining through. Reno sighed heavily.

"'Not until the interest rates go down and the market stabilizes'. I know." he grumbled.

"'Mortgage' is Latin for 'deathgrip'. Not a lot of people know that..." Axel insisted.

"Alright, alright, I get it. We'll hold off on the house. But the point is, I can _afford_ it, Axel. I can afford to have you stay with me. I _want _you to stay with me. It's been too long since we've shared a closet." he chuckled at the memory.

"Aww... is Reno longing for the days of waking up with my filthy underwear on his head?" Axel laughed deviantly, recalling the childhood tormenting of his brother. It never ceased amazed him, the amount of trouble he got into as a child. Well, that's what you get for giving a couple of kids paintball guns and a house the size of Buckingham Palace with an army of maids and butlers to clean up after them.

"You have no idea." Reno chuckled. "Seriously, bro. Come home with me, okay?"

Axel groaned loudly, pressing his head back against the pillow, crushing his spikes.

"Fine." he winced. "But I gotta talk to you!" he said suddenly, sitting up.

"About?" asked Reno, his tone considerably lighter now that Axel agreed.

"I uh... made a friend in all this." Axel chuckled nervously. "An EMT. The one that...er...responded the other night." he blushed.

"Oh?" said Reno. "Go on."

"He's really cool. _Totally_ has a stick up his ass, but he likes Metallica of all things. I'm thinkin' maybe I can get him to break and be more chill or somethi-.." Axel began rambling.

"'He'?" Reno interjected. "So when mom was going on about you being bi..." he mused.

"It's...not like that." Axel said, not completely sure, himself. "But I really like talking to him and stuff!"

"That's great. And don't worry, I'm totally cool with you being bi. I think Rufus might be a bit on the 'not-so-straight' side. And..." Reno began when a high-pitched female voice called to him from a distance. "Hold on, bro." he mumbled, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. Axel sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing that voice anywhere. It was Tifa. Axel began nibbling on the biscuit again when Reno uncovered the phone.

"Hey, baby bro. Tifa's home and she uh...she's not in the best of moods." he groaned.

"One, don't call me 'baby'. You're three minutes older _at most_. And two, no one told you to get married. That was all you." Axel said, taking bolder bites out of the rock-hard pastry.

"You sound like my therapist." Reno grumbled. "But hey, I'll talk to ya later. Expect a call from me the day of your discharge, alright?" he said.

"Cool beans, brother." Axel said with a mouth full of biscuit.

"I love you, man." Reno said sincerely.

"I love you too, Reno." Axel replied.

"Bye!" quipped the older of the two before the line went dead. Axel nodded to himself, setting the receiver back down.

"Now..." he mused out loud, picking up the magazine and an apple from the leftovers of breakfast. "Where was I?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Hey hey, you you... I don't like your girlfriend!" sang Demyx loudly where he and Roxas sat on the back of the ambulance, the doors open, a cool breeze blowing. Roxas stared at him.

"There's something wrong with you. Really." he said. Demyx wrapped an arm around Roxas's shoulder and began swaying.

"No way, no way, I think ya need a new one!" he cried. "C'mon, Roxy! Sing!"

Roxas looked to his partner in awe. It could be raining hellfire and lightening bolts and Demyx would be out in the middle of it, dancing along a wall with an umbrella, singing about tiptoeing through flowers. He smiled warmly.

"Hey hey, you you I want to be your girlfrieeennnd!" Roxas finished falsetto, a voice in the back of his mind commending him for taking choir all four years of high school. They sat there, chuckling and staring off at the clouds. Demyx dismissed himself to go tinker with the controls at the front of the ambulance while Roxas decided to get up and stretch his legs. They'd been sitting here for hours in front of the stadium with several other paramedic units and firetrucks from two or three departments. The sound of the game and the fans raging inside would have given a normal person a headache. But Roxas was used to wailing sirens and Demyx's sugar rushes, so it was just a dull roar in the background to him. All the same, he couldn't help but think of how this formidable monstrosity of steel, concrete and glass wasn't too far a cry from the dilapidated slaughterhouse of Rome in it's glory days. After all, they were both full of screaming buffoons, gorging themselves and spending ridiculous amounts of time and money to see people from opposing sides try to take each other out. Right? But then again, Roxas never _was_ one for sports. He looked up from his bottle of water to a couple of firemen who waved him over from where they stood near their truck.

"Yes?" he asked them both as he approached them slowly.

"Not that it's our business," said the sandy blond one. "But is your friend in there uh..." he searched for the word.

"Gay?" Roxas found it for him. The pair of firemen smiled apologetically and nodded.

"No...he's just " said Roxas, turning around to look at Demyx who sat in the driver's seat, flipping the lights on and off, cackling like a moron. "...Insane."

"He's got a good voice, though." the man of darker hair commented.

"And he's so cute!" mentioned the other. Roxas stared at him in horror.

"Demyx?!" he cried, gripping his water bottle in disgust. "Dude... no!"

"Oh come on. You never look at his butt when you're working?" quipped the one that found him cute.

"No way, dude. Not Demyx." Roxas winced.

"Funny. I would have taken you for a homo." said the other one, almost sadly.

"'Ey... the accepted vernacular is 'gay'." Roxas said, pointing to him with the hand holding the water.

"Oh you don't have to tell us, sweety. We know." remarked the taller of the two men. That's when it clicked.

"Oh holy hell, no way. Really?" Roxas asked. They both smiled wide.

"Cid..." said the short, blond one, offering his hand to Roxas who took it.

"Vincent." said the taller one with the dark hair and brooding (and were they seriously that color?) red eyes.

"And you guys are..." Roxas said, pointing to the both of them.

"You got it. Not with each other, but..." Vincent said with a wave of his hand.

"Wow. And how does that uh...how does that effect your work? I mean... does anyone care?" Roxas asked, intrigued.

"There's the occasional 'fag' remark but you know, the way I see it, we could just let 'em burn to death in a fire they more than likely started, but we don't. It makes us the better people." Vincent replied.

"Why? People get onto you?" Cid asked.

"Is it really that obvious?" Roxas asked, disappointed.

"You're really too beautiful to be straight." Vincent remarked. "It's your eyes."

"Fantastic." Roxas mumbled. "But I'm not completely gay. I'm just kinda...bi." he said, not believing that he was admitting this for the first time to a couple of strangers. Maybe it was best that way...

"For who?" asked Cid.

"What do you mean?" Roxas asked defensively.

"You normally don't realize you're gay or bi until you have a love-interest of the same sex. It's a very common psychological concept." Vincent said. Roxas's eyes widened.

"He's the smart one." Cid smiled, motioning with his thumb at Vincent who grinned slightly. "But spill it! Who's the lucky boy?"

"Axel.." Roxas mumbled.

"Axel, eh? Sounds exotic." smiled Vincent.

"Yeah well..." Roxas began.

"Axel? Hey wasn't that the suicide we had the other night?" asked Demyx, walking up behind him.

"I...uh...ooh..." he stuttered, looking up at Vincent and Cid who now stared at him, wide-eyed.

"That's not good, man. Work and play must be separate. Things get messy if they're not." said Vincent.

"Roxy? What's he talking about?" Demyx asked, putting a hand on Roxas's shoulder.

"Look, I..." he began when gunshots rang out in the stadium, followed by a wave of screams.

"Oh shit." choked Demyx.

"No...no way, no fucking way." Roxas whispered. Paramedics and firemen alike ran full speed into the stadium as panicked sports fans ran out.

"Roxas! Stay close!" called Demyx. Roxas nodded, knowing Demyx couldn't see over the heads of the people rushing past them. He froze. He hated crowds and this... this was just too much. There were more gunshots and more screams as firemen, EMTs and police flooded the stadium. Roxas ran until his legs and lungs hurt, eyes darting around quickly, looking for wounded people. There was a woman face-down on the ground, blood pouring from her still body. Roxas rushed over to her and she lay beside a concession stand. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins a he ignored the sight of the blood and skidded to a halt beside her.

"Get down! Get the fuck down!" shouted an officer from behind Roxas. He turned just in time to see a man with a gun step out from behind the stand, his weapon aimed right at Roxas. His eyes widened as he dove for the cement. His face pressed to the cold, hard ground, he waited. There was a gunshot, but he felt no pain. Instead, there was a thud to his left. Or was it his right? Was it the cop or did the cop get the guy?

"Please...please god no..." Roxas sobbed against the concrete.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The sun had come out of the clouds a bit by now and Axel irritably shut the blinds.

"Fucking sunlight..." he muttered.

"You know, UV rays are actually _very_ good for you." said a young orderly with platinum hair and green eyes as he brought fresh sheets to Axel.

"Dude, my face is whiter than your ass, guaranteed. I don't do well in sunlight." Axel grumbled at the memory of the 2nd degree sunburn he suffered as a teenager the time he'd fallen asleep on the deck of his parents' pool for 8 hours without sunscreen. The orderly only stared.

"Well, everything in small doses, you know?" he said. "Now that the sun's coming out a bit, you might want to take a walk. It's really nice out there. You never know. The sun might cheer you up." he smiled. Axel wanted to tell him that no amount of sunlight was going to cure the chronic depression that ran in his family, but he felt bad telling someone off when they were as nice as this kid, so he just grinned at him.

"Can you guys get this out of me?" he begged, pointing to the IV in his arm. The orderly nodded and summoned a nurse. She removed the IV and placed a bandage on Axel's arm.

"Thank you...uh...?" Axel stuttered.

"Kairi." smiled the young nurse. "And don't thank me, thank Vexen." she motioned to the orderly, who waved.

"Thank you, Vexen" Axel said, positive that kid was just barely legally old enough to be working at the hospital. The nurse excused herself with a kind smile. Axel heaved a sigh, deciding to take the orderly's advice and slipped on a pair of shoes, making his way out of the room and down the hall.

"_The kid was right." _hethought as he stepped outside. The air was still light and cool, the smell of rain floating on it like the petals from the flowering bushes that surrounded the hospital. Maybe things wouldn't turn out as bad as he thought. Unable to mooch cigarettes off of any of the employees, Axel decided to walk around to the back of the hospital, to the ambulance bay, and see if Roxas had started his shift yet. It was much quieter here, as it was away from the road and the only people that parked in the back where the doctors and nurses. The rich kid deep inside him chuckled when he caught sight of a brand new Infinity sitting in doctor-reserved parking.

"Haha...fucker. I got a Lamborghini for my 16th birthday." he chuckled, running his fingertips along the smooth, black surface. Then the punkass deep inside him told him to kick the tire and see if it had an alarm system. _"I'm 22 now."_ he scolded himself. Axel walked around a bit more in the ambulance bay, humming Green Day songs and looking around for any sign of Roxas. The hospital doors slid open and the burly nurse from before stepped out of them, shooting Axel a deathglare.

"Yo! Eyebrows! You seen Roxas around?" Axel called to him.

"You're still here?" he growled back.

"They want to poke around in my brain and crawl up my ass just a tad bit more before they send me home." Axel smiled, folding his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. The nurse glowered harder at the redheaded youth.

"You need to leave. This area is designated for employees and _incoming_ patients only." he said. But something in his voice was off.

"Just tell me if..." Axel began.

"I haven't seen your butt buddy. Now get the hell out of here! There was a shooting at the game across town and we're the _only _hospital in the area with a trauma unit. We have truckloads of very badly wounded people arriving and if you get in the way of any of the staff, _so help me_..." he growled. Axel took a step back, putting his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

"Alright, alright. Chillax. I'm gone..." he mumbled, turning on his heel to leave. It was then he heard the sirens in the distance, closing in fast. He stumbled onto the sidewalk, nearly falling into the nurse he'd dubbed 'eyebrows' as an ambulance came screaming into the bay. The doors flew open and the EMTs inside rushed to unhook the gurney and pull it out. On it was a man, about Axel's father's age with an eye patch and gray streaks through his black hair. He wasn't in too bad of shape, as he kept screaming for morphine for the bullet wound in his arm. The next ambulance pulled in behind it, this time carrying a woman with several towels pressed to her chest, blood still pouring from it. At this, Axel stepped back a bit. He liked to think he was well-versed in the ways of the world but the closest he'd ever come to human drama this intense was watching 'ER' on TLC from the comfort of his livingroom. It was at that moment he realized what Roxas had to put up with day in, day out. More and more ambulances screeched into the bay, nurses and paramedics shouting at one another, pulling gurneys with wounded strapped to them across the cement. Ambulances that didn't even belong to the hospital were pulling in, more bleeding, crying, wounded people on board. Over the sea of people, Axel caught sight of a tall blond with a mullet. He recognized him as Demyx.

"Demyx!" he called, his voice washed out among the others. "Demyyyyx!" he called louder. He didn't even turn around, as he was too busy unloading a gurney from the ambulance. Axel pushed along the edges of the stream of nurses and paramedics till he found himself standing beside the tall EMT.

"Demyx..." he breathed. The tall, blond paramedic looked up at him quickly, tears and fear in his eyes. Axel's own eyes wandered to the gurney Demyx was pulling out of the ambulance. Strapped to it, was Roxas, an oxygen mask on his face, blood pouring from three holes in his chest and one in his throat where a tube was inserted, Demyx slowly pumping a large bulb attached to the other end, sending air and life into Roxas's lungs. Axel gasped loudly, grabbing his open mouth and stumbling back until he felt himself press against the warm brick of the building. Demyx shot him a quick, forlorn look and continued to pull his partner into the hospital. Tears cascaded down Axel's face and over his fingers as he watched Roxas disappear, too weak and shocked to follow.

"Rox...Roxas..." Axel whimpered, his pain ignored by the people rushing around him. His eyes were blurred, and his breathing was coming in quick gasps as he tried to shake the images of Roxas's bleeding chest from his mind. A dull ringing began in the back of his head as the chaos around him melted away into sheer and utter misery. Pushing himself off the wall, Axel began rushing between nurses and paramedics, shoving his way into the building and down the hall...

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

1 hour earlier...

"Roxas! Stay close!" Demyx cried. Roxas nodded, mostly to himself as they all ran at full speed through the quickly emptying concrete structure. His lungs about to bleed, his legs about to give out, he found a woman on the ground, not moving. Falling to his knees beside her, ignoring the blood, he heard a voice.

"Get down! Get the fuck down!"

It was from a cop, the police-issued gun staring Roxas in the face. He turned, the whole world seeming to slow around him. There, a few feet away was the gunman. The cause of all of this. And him...he had his weapon aimed at Roxas as well. Roxas's eyes widened and he turned, diving to the ground to get out of the way. The ground was so cold against his cheek and temple as he waited for the searing pain of a bullet in his back.

"Please...please god no..."

Seconds ticked by like chunks of eternity as he waited. A gunshot, deafening and heart stopping. But no pain. Not even after several seconds of waiting. But there _was_ sound...whimpering? Footsteps? Both? Both. The cop to Roxas's left had fallen to the ground, and the man with the gun was now stepping over Roxas where he trembled in a fetal position on the concrete. Roxas peeked through strands of sweat-drenched hair as the man fired one final shot into the brave officer. Blood and pieces of bone shot out in all directions, some of it hitting Roxas in the face. Too stunned to move, he could only watch as the man now approached him. His hiking boots were muddy, the bottoms of his black pants were torn up and stained. That was about all Roxas could gather about the monster before he felt a sharp pain in his side. The man kicked him, making him roll over. And that's when he saw those fierce eyes, full of anger for someone or something other than the helpless EMT in their sight. The man pointed the gun right at Roxas's face. The barrel was dark and deviant, mirroring the man's thoughts as his lips curled into a rueful smile.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." he growled. Roxas desperately searched his mind for a reason. Was there even a reason why someone should be allowed to live? He vaguely recalled the psychology books he'd browsed as a student. The man towering over him was just as scared as he was. Hence the gun. All the same, the wall of anger and muscle grabbed Roxas by the collar of his shirt and pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple, his foul breath washing over Roxas as he whispered.

"You got one for me?" he demanded menacingly. Roxas squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"P-please..." stammered Roxas, now shaking hard enough to almost break free. He felt his stomach flip and flop as images ran through his mind of what would become of him, and his entire body grew cold. "Please just let me go.." he begged through tears. The man scoffed in his face, dropping Roxas onto his back and taking a few steps away from him. For a second, Roxas thought the man was just going to walk away. That's when he heard the gun cock. Before he had time to scream or even think of how badly it was going to hurt, he heard the gunshot echo through the metal seats around him, though it seemed like the bullet entered his chest before the sound even reached his ears. And oh, did it hurt. The bullet tore through his shirt, ripping apart soft flesh as blood welled up around it, pouring out the hole left behind in great bursts of precious life. It was warm as it trickled down his front, soaking his shirt. He brought himself to look down as he pressed a trembling hand to the wound. It didn't seem real. That wasn't his bleeding chest, or his hands now covered in a cascade of crimson. Those weren't his ears that were ringing, his tears falling onto the ground. It couldn't be. Two more shots rang out, one of the bullets causing more pain than Roxas ever thought possible. He fell onto his back and twitched, pulling himself into a fetal position, gasping loud and quickly, pressing his hand to his chest in an effort to make the searing pain go away. In the back of his mind he knew the bullet had punctured his lung. He'd seen lung perforations by bullet before. The patient almost never made it to the hospital, and if they did, they didn't live very long once they were inside.

The world around him seemed to stop, and everything he'd ever known became completely irrelevant. His mind began to shut down as it tried wrapping itself around the fact that it was dying. Dying. Roxas couldn't help but think that it was such a funny sounding word for something so serious. He thought of many things in that moment. His mother and father before the car crash, Sora in his full-body cast after taking a tumble on his dirtbike, the first girl Roxas had ever liked... Namine had been her name? And Axel. Why was he in there? His skin and eyes were soft as his arms gently pulled Roxas into a loving embrace, his words were kind and his voice alluring as Roxas closed his eyes, giving in to the cold spreading from his fingertips to the rest of his broken body. Maybe this was it? Roxas heard a pair of feet come to rest beside his head. He opened his eye just a bit, only enough to see a mud-caked boot. There was another cocking of the gun, though Roxas was completely calm, and so ready for it. He took one last deep breath before the final bullet entered his throat only seconds before the bullet of a SWAT team member shattered the skull of the man that had already claimed so many lives.

Roxas's gasps became fewer, and more shallow as Demyx fell to his knees beside him, tears streaming down his glorious, young face.

"R-Roxas..." he choked, his hands hovering over his bleeding partner as if they were unsure where to go. "No..." he sputtered. "No no no no no no..." he whispered, pressing his forehead to Roxas's shoulder.

"Demyx!" called a tall paramedic with short blond hair and captivating eyes. "How is he?"

Demyx stared at the man with wide, tearful eyes as he dragged a gurney toward him. He could feel Roxas's blood as it poured between his fingers and over his own. His partner's shallow gasps only drove a pain deeper into his heart. He recognized that wheezing, that gasping at life's final breaths. Pushing this into the back of his mind, Demyx helped the other EMT lift Roxas onto the gurney and carefully strapped him in. The other blond pressed a towel to the gaping wound in Roxas's throat and began to wheel him away when Demyx latched onto his arm.

"I wanna take him!" he pleaded tearfully.

"Demyx you're in no position to..." the other man argued.

"No! Lux, I'm taking him. I have to!" Demyx cried, shaking his head and pulling on the man's arm harder. The taller blond lowered his eyes mournfully and stepped away from Roxas, letting Demyx take over. Police swarmed the stadium while other paramedics and firemen searched for more wounded. There were civilian stragglers, of course. Demyx yelled at them to get out of the way as he jogged with the gurney to the metal gates of the entrance. It had begun to rain, and Demyx had a hell of a time navigating through the sheets of water, but he managed to find the ambulance. The paramedic that had offered to take Roxas before hopped into the front seat as Demyx climbed into the back, shutting the doors.

"Roxas..." he begged, holding his dear friend's face in his hands. "Please..." he whispered. He shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the blood pouring from his partner. He quickly grabbed an IV and saline solution bag, administering the IV and searching for medical pliers. The driver heard him scrambling and called to him.

"Demyx! Leave him alone till we get to the hospital." he said, not taking his eyes off the road as he pulled out of the stadium parkinglot and flipped on the siren. Demyx ignored him as he continued to desperately rummage through various drawers and plastic boxes.

"Did you hear me?!" demanded the driver.

"I hear you!" Demyx shot back angrily. "But every second he lays there, he's_ dying_! And I'm not going to let my friend die for hospital _fucking_ procedure!" he groped around in a black plastic box until he found a neatly wrapped pair of pliers. He tore them out of the bag, not even bothering to put on gloves. He gently cut Roxas's shirt in half, exposing the bullet holes. He gasped loudly, eyes fixed on the hole in his throat. Setting down the pliers, he grabbed an oxygen mask and wrapped it around Roxas's face, pumping the bulb slowly. And here, he was met with a dilemma. His eyes flickered over Roxas, fading fast, then to the man in the front seat.

"Luxord..." he breathed. "Pull over."

"Do _what_?" demanded Luxord. Demyx wiped his brow on his shoulder as he continued to work the bulb, pumping air into Roxas.

"Pull over! I need your help with this..." he gasped.

"Are you serious?! Wait till we get to the hosp-..." began Luxord.

"Oh fuck the hospital! He's not going to make it to the hospital!" Demyx cried. Luxord cursed and pulled the ambulance over, turning around in the seat to yell at Demyx.

"You are violating every single code out there! When we get back to the hospital, I'm reporting you!" he cried. Demyx's eye twitched and he reached out, striking Luxord across the face, pulling him into the back of the ambulance by his collar.

"I don't give a good god _damn_ about the codes! My friend is _dying_..." he screamed in Luxord's face. "I need your help! And if you won't help me, get the fuck out of my ambulance so I can find someone who will!" he continued to yell, holding Luxord by the shirt. The man looked up at Demyx, terrified. "Now will you help me or won't you?" he pleaded, tears running down his face. Luxord's eyes flickered from Demyx, to the gurney, and back. "Will you?!" Demyx demanded, shaking him a bit. Luxord nodded quickly, too stunned to say a word. Demyx released him.

"W-what do I...?" he asked, looking around at the mess his fellow paramedic had made of the back of the ambulance.

"The bulb. Keep squeezing it. I've got to feed this tube down his throat to keep the passage open." Demyx sniffled, lowering a length of clear, plastic tubing into Roxas's open neck. After securing the tube, Demyx began pulling the bullets from Roxas's chest with shaking hands. He pushed the nose of the pliers into each gaping hole, resisting the urge to vomit every time he heard blood bubble up around them. It was the most sickening sound he'd ever heard. And the smell of blood was so intense, he was positive he was going to faint. And blood didn't even bother him. He worked quickly, removing every chunk of metal but the one lodged in the back of Roxas's throat. The doctor would have to get that one. He didn't have the materials to sew Roxas up, so he settled for blankets and towels wrapped tightly around his chest. Grabbing the bulb away from Luxord, he looked to the other man.

"Drive." he demanded, and Luxord complied, climbing back into the front seat and speeding down the street to the hospital, siren wailing. Demyx looked down at his partner, barely clinging to life. Tears re-wet his eyes when Roxas gasped, the muscles in his body tensing with what had to be pain. Demyx pumped the bulb slowly, resting his other hand on Roxas's chest.

"I told you to stay close..." he whimpered, watching as the blankets on his chest were quickly stained red. "You big dummy..." Demyx whispered tearfully. Roxas twitched again with pain and a wave of tears rolled down Demyx's rosy cheeks, a muffled cry of remorse escaping his trembling lips. He coughed and sniffled, regaining composure as the ambulance tore into the bay of the hospital, several other paramedic units already crowding the small area.

"You're going to live..." Demyx whispered to Roxas, kissing his forehead gently as Luxord jumped out of the front seat to open the doors. "I promise..."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Panicked family members demanding entrance to the ICU, frustrated nurses, over-worked doctors and bloody, abandoned gurneys flooded the halls as Axel ran through them at full speed, ducking around people and doors as they swung open. He kept his eyes on the back of Demyx's head as it bobbed with the effort of a brisk jog through the throng of people. Axel pushed his way through a group of family members standing outside a patient's door, conversing in another language. He subconsciously took note that the string of swear words uttered after him by the older man he'd shoved into the wall was in German. He ran past people, bumping into them, getting his kneecaps assaulted by carts and other medical supplies left out in the way as patron and employee alike ran like mad through the hall, making room for the wounded. He ignored people's grunts of annoyance as he gently pushed them out of the way. His white hospital gown flew out behind him like a flag as he shoved his way through the double doors of the Intensive Care Unit, his fists bruising against the reinforced wood, his bright hospital band flashing on his wrist as the doors gave way. All around him, people were crying, bleeding, pleading for help. Some weren't moving at all. He ignored one man's cry of 'You can't be in here!' as the soles of his bare feet slapped hard against the cold tile in his effort to catch up with Demyx. Finally, the tall EMT wheeled Roxas into a tight space between two other gurneys. On one was the man with the eye patch, bandages wrapped around his arm, an IV pouring liberal amounts of morphine into his veins. On the other, the sheets were pulled up over the head of a medium sized lump of someone who didn't make it. The doctor was immediately at Roxas's side, pulling the towels from his chest. Axel saw the blood and his head reeled. Could someone _live_ after losing that much? And there was so much on the gurney, and on the hands of the doctor as he worked, and Axel could only imagine where Roxas had fallen. So, so much blood...

"Axel?" Demyx's voice made Axel literally jump and tear his hand away from his mouth where it had been clutching tightly to the flesh in horror. He nodded weakly.

"Please tell me he's going to be okay..." Axel begged, the sound much higher than intended. It was only now he realized there were tears pouring down his cheeks. Demyx looked to him, then to the doctor. Axel didn't wait for a response, he took a few hearty strides forward, shoving himself in between a shocked orderly and a nurse who was only watching with fear in her eyes as the doctor did everything in his power to save Roxas.

"Roxas!" he said tearfully over the dull roar of the crowded room around him. "Roxas don't die..." he pleaded. The doctor looked from Roxas, to the redheaded man beside him, a crazed and horrified look in his glamorous green eyes.

"Get him out of here." he said gruffly. Axel's head shot up as he stared at the doctor, who'd resumed the task of bringing Roxas back from the brink.

"No. No no no no... you don't understand. He's my friend! You have to let me stay..." he begged, grabbing one of Roxas's hands. Another pang of sadness split Axel's chest when he felt how cold they'd become. He felt a large hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the gurney. "No please!" he pleaded. No one paid him any heed. He leaned forward, gripping the bars of the gurney in desperation as the pulling became more firm. His grip never tightened around Roxas's small hands, though right before another large nurse wrapped a tree trunk of an arm around his waist to pull him away, Axel felt Roxas's fingers twitch and wrap themselves around Axel's hand. Two more nurses and three uniformed security guards were called in to escort Axel from the room. Finally, an abnormally large security guard had to swing Axel over his shoulder and carry him, kicking and screaming, from ICU.

"Put me down, you steroid munching ingrate!" Axel spat as he beat his fists against the man's large back. Without a second glance, the man dropped Axel into a red-clothed seat beside the nurse's station.

"Stay." he commanded, as if addressing a dog. The redheaded youth glared at him with deep contempt as the guard turned his enormous back to him, walking away. Axel sighed, tilting his head back against the cool wall. He sat up, leaning forward, burying his face in his hands. After a few moments of deep breathing to keep his anger and panic under control, Axel looked up to find Demyx sitting across the room from him, watching him with intense interest.

"I see what he likes about you..." he croaked, scratching his bloodstained fingers absently. "So much fire..."

"You brought him here?" Axel asked, ignoring the EMT. Demyx nodded. "Is he going to be okay?" asked the young man. Demyx's eyes filled with pain and he looked away.

"God, I hope so." he whispered, stiff partly numb. Axel folded his arms across his chest, fighting tears.

"I want to go back in there..." he complained, his voice on the verge of cracking. "I wanna see him..."

"You can't go in." Demyx said quietly, looking at the floor.

"And why the fuck not?!" Axel cried, a bit louder than anticipated. Tears were now streaming from his eyes.

"You're a friend. They don't even let family into ICU until the patient is stabilized. Even then, one at a time." Demyx explained. "Besides, in case you weren't looking around in there, it's a fuckin' bloodbath. You don't want to be in a room where every other person in it is dying. Trust me..." he muttered.

"It's not that bad." Axel griped.

"Really? Take a look at your feet." Demyx said darkly. Axel looked down at his bare feet and the rather large spots of blood that covered them.

"Holy shit..." he squirmed.

"Chill. It's not your blood." Demyx mumbled.

"Who's is it?" Axel panicked, wiping his feet with the hem of his hospital gown.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Could have been anyone's. Everyone was bleeding all over the place in there...everyone..." Demyx said distantly, not looking up from the floor. Axel swallowed audibly, then crossed the room to sit beside Demyx.

"Roxas will be okay, won't he?" he whispered hopefully. Demyx shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned around in it to say something encouraging to Axel when they heard the doctors begin to shout from behind the double doors. Axel stood and briskly walked across the room, pressing his face to the small glass window in the door. There was a nurse, standing beside a crash cart. Axel could hear the electronic whine as the charge built, but his eyes were fixed on the person the defibrillator was intended for. There were now two doctors working on Roxas and several nurses. Axel watched with horror as they sent the first burst of electricity surging through Roxas's small body. His back arched involuntarily and his fingers twitched. Axel's stomach wrenched at the sight, but he could not look away. The charge was building again as a doctor with brilliant silver hair and golden eyes began pressing on Roxas's chest, above his heart. He shook his head quickly after several presses, prompting the nurse beside him to hit Roxas again with the charged paddles. Axel's hand flew over his mouth and he turned away, pressing his back to the wall, trying to stave off the urge to vomit. Over the commotion of other doctors and patients, Axel could hear Roxas's doctor calling for more voltage and more help pressing on the EMT's chest._ "It's all over..."_ echoed Axel's subconscious. _"He's gone.."_

"No..." he muttered to himself. "No!" Axel whirled around from where he stood, pressed to the wall, and pushed through the doors again. No one bothered to look up or yell at him for re-entering without permission. All the efforts of the nurses and doctors were in bringing Roxas back. The flatline tone was deafening to Axel as he watched the doctor press harder and harder on Roxas's chest. He stared in horror as the doctor, covered head to toe in blood, turned to a nurse and called for more voltage. A pompous nurse to the doctor's right crossed his arms and heaved a sigh, as if this was routine.

"Call it." he said in a bored voice. The doctor shook his head 'no' and called again for more voltage. "Xemnas, you're gonna burn the hair right off the kid. Give it up." he drawled again.

"Not now, Saix!" the doctor snapped.

"You can't save everyone. You're just gonna have to deal with that. Call it!" Saix demanded. Xemnas muttered something to an orderly along the lines of 'throw him out'. Upon seeing this, Saix threw his hands up in surrender, tearing off his surgical mask and cap, sending a cascade of blue down his back. He brushed past a stunned Axel irritably and pushed his way through the doors. Axel continued to watch, frozen completely still as the tone continued to blare. One of the nurses finally pulled her surgical mask off.

"I think you should call it..." she muttered. The doctor again shook his head 'no' as he applied even more pressure to Roxas's chest.

"No..." Axel muttered. "Don't call it!" he yelled over the noise of the room. Several nurses looked up at this and called immediately to security. "Don't call it! Don't call it! Please don't give up on him! Don't let him die! Please!" Axel called to the doctor as security again had to remove him. Axel struggled hard this time, kicking at the men who dragged him, even biting at their hands. He tried to pull away from them as they grabbed tightly onto his small arms. Everything around him slowed as he fought against the iron grip of the guards, kicking over shining silver trays of medical instruments and stacks of towels near the door. In all his thrashing, Axel turned his head just in time to whack the back of it hard against the wooden door of ICU. His vision blurred almost instantly and a dull ringing began in the back of his pained head, matching pitch with the flatline tone. In his last moments of consciousness, he managed to see the doctor stand up straight and pull off his surgical mask, turning off the machine beside Roxas's gurney. If only Axel had the strength to call out to him...

"_Please..." _the words echoed in his hazing mind. _"Please don't die, Roxas. I need you..." _

The guards dragged Axel limply through the doors.

"_Please... come back." _

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"If you value your existence, you'll close those fucking blinds..." Axel griped as his twin pulled open the blinds on the window of Axel's room. Reno chuckled, undoing the lock and pushing open the beautiful glass pane.

"You need some fresh air in here, baby brother. Place smells like a dungeon." he groaned, tossing the feather down pillows that had fallen off in the night, back onto Axel's bed.

"What have I told you about using that _word_..." Axel snapped, rolling over and pulling a pillow tightly over his head. The scars on his wrists shone in the light of early afternoon, a constant reminder of what he lost and what he_ almost_ lost. Reno only patted the large comforter under which Axel was buried.

"Tifa made breakfast..." were his parting words. Axel lay there for several moments in the oversized bed. He finally sat up sleepily and stared around at the luxurious room. When Reno said he was living extravagantly, he wasn't kidding. The whole room (including the marshmallow-soft bed) looked like something straight out of a painting of King Louis's bedroom. With a little bit of Axel flair, of course. The dresser was a gleaming ivory Bombay chest with intricate gold patterns hand-painted onto the surface. Axel used this as a table for his stereo, CDs of all genres spilled out around it. The glorious French-style wrought iron posts on the four poster bed served as convenient places for Axel to hang his many (often multi-colored) scarves. His clothes were scattered across the floor, his shoes sat in a pile in the corner and posters of his favorite bands decorated the beautifully sponge-painted white and pale yellow walls of the room. By the door was taped a Metallica poster. Axel's heart sank every single time he looked at it. He thought it would get easier, but it never did. Not after such a lack of closure.

He'd been brought straight to this manor-esque house (upon Reno's request) following his self-induced K.O in ICU. From that point on, no one had told him what happened to Roxas. If there was a funeral, he wasn't invited. He'd asked the hospital numerous times to tell him what happened or at least tell him where he could find Demyx, who'd transferred after that day. They told him it was confidential information and turned him away every single time. He'd strongly considered breaking into the hospital and hacking their computers. When Reno got wind of that, he'd put Axel on house-arrest for a week. Not wanting to think about the beautiful paramedic with eyes like the ocean, Axel crawled out of bed, sleepily stumbling to the door, scratching his bare stomach as he trudged down the hallway to the dining room. Despite all her 'character flaws', Tifa could cook like no one's business and that smell drove Axel crazy every morning she decided to grace them with her only redeemable quality. As Axel walked, he thought of Roxas as he often did when he was alone. What he wouldn't give to see him one last time, to hold his hand. He mentally kicked himself in the ass day after day for not asking him for a kiss when he had the chance. What a glorious thing that would have been. A moment of private intimacy with the man responsible for saving Axel's life. His own beautiful, worn down angel. His savior and Godsend. His artist in the ambulance.

Axel shook his head, taking a seat at the small table which seemed massively humble in such a large, beautifully decorated dining room. He scratched his head slowly, relishing in the feeling of his fingernails against his tired scalp. Tifa set a plate of warm breakfast in front of him and the smell literally made his mouth water. Then something else was set in front of him. He opened his eyes and looked down. There, resting against the large white plate, was an equally white envelope. There was no postage stamp, no address. He stared at it curiously, then up at Reno, who'd set it in front of him in the first place.

"It came for you this morning." explained the elder redhead. Axel raised his eyebrows questioningly. Reno smiled. "The head maid on the morning shift said a guy in bluejeans and a black jacket dropped it off. Said to give it to 'The chain-smoking redhead who talks too much'." Reno said. "I figured it had to be you. I don't smoke."

Axel nodded slowly, picking up the envelope and looking it over curiously. There was absolutely no way to tell where or who it came from. Axel peeled away a corner of it slowly.

"If it's full of anthrax..." Axel muttered to no one in particular. He pulled one side of it away completely and stuck a tentative finger inside. His fingertip brushed a small, folded piece of paper. He pulled it out and read it. Slow at first, then faster and faster, over and over, his hands shaking.

"What's it say?" inquired Reno at his brother's odd behavior. Axel shook his head, then looked to Reno intensely.

"I need to borrow your car." he said. Reno gave Axel a look, but agreed to lend him the Lexus for the day. Axel sprang from the table, scrap of paper in hand. He dashed into his room, pulling on a pair of terribly baggy, ratty black pants and a tight black wifebeater. He ran his fingers through his hair to untangle some of it, but to no avail. Grabbing the keys to the over-priced silver hunk of scrapmetal, Axel waved to Reno and Tifa as he closed the door to the garage. He put the metal garage door up, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as it rose with painful sluggishness.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Return to where it all began. You'll find me in that desolate place where our eyes meet in brilliant sunlight. I'll be waiting."

"Signed: ..."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Axel pushed the little wannabe sports car a bit harder than he should of, whipping in and out of traffic, ignoring the honking of people on their way to monotonous jobs to earn pitiful wages. That letter was just a bit too cryptic, and Axel was hoping dearly that all his years of speaking in riddles to confuse his family and friends hadn't been lost to his more recent habit of being sarcastic to get his point across. The hospital where he'd suffered his loss loomed in the distance. It looked so much different in the sun, when the clouds were far away. Every window of it's 30 some odd floors glittered and the white stood out against the lush backdrop of green trees. It was about noon now, and every corner of the deserted secondary parkinglot for patients was doused in sunlight. This was the most desolate place Axel could think of. And there, under the neatly painted signs bolted to the tall metal lamp posts labeled "Green parking unit" and "Blue parking unit" was a little black car, cigarette smoke drifting from the cracked window. Axel parked the Lexus and stepped out of it, not even bothering to turn off the engine or shut the door. He stood for a moment, watching the car for any signs of life. Before he could really get his head around it, Axel was waking slowly towards the car, the hem of his pants making a soft shuffling sound against the asphalt.

The door of the car opened and a leg, clad in bluejeans, swung out. A cigarette fell from the hand of the person inside, and they smashed the butt of the cancer stick, little green lines around the filter and all, into the ground with a large black shoe. The person climbed out of the car and took to leaning against it, smiling at Axel's look of shock and disbelief. They folded their arms, keys of all sizes and a beaten-up Bob Marley keychain was held in one hand. Axel hadn't noticed it till now, but the stereo inside the car was playing softly. A song by Tool that would never be broadcast on the radio. It was a CD. Axel's mouth hung open as he took a few more steps toward the owner of the car, the one who'd sent him the letter. His breath was a shuddering gasp as he reached out, wrapping the person in a hug, tears slipping unchecked down his face that was still numb with shock. The person returned Axel's hug as he sobbed with joy into their shoulder, still marred with round scars.

"I know..." Roxas whispered soothingly, kissing the top of Axel's head. "I missed you, too..." his voice remained unfailingly angelic and soft, despite the doctors having to sew shut the hole in his throat that once threatened his life.

"I thought... you were dead." Axel whispered.

"So did I for a while there." Roxas smiled, pulling Axel into view. Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, he pulled Axel close, kissing him hard, then softer as the other boy melted into what they'd both secretly wanted since Roxas was closing up Axel's wrists several months ago. When Roxas finally broke the kiss, Axel was panting, his eyes wide.

"By the way..." Roxas chuckled. "I thought about your question. And I finally have an answer."

"And?" Axel inquired. Roxas smiled shyly, looking around the deserted parkinglot, then back at Axel's stunning eyes.

"Green." he whispered. "My favorite color is green."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ta da!

Well there ya have it, folks!

I was actually going to off Roxas in an even more violent manner in my original outline, but I figured I write enough death and gore and sadness, a little bit of happy wouldn't hurt.

Besides, someone suggested that I make this have a happy ending and I thought about it and I really just fell in love with the new ending that review sparked. So thank you for recommending I not kill off a beloved character! Sometimes it helps to leave someone alive, I suppose...

Alright, playtime's over.

I return to (yet_ again_) revising and rewriting the ending chapters of "Sanctuary".

This should be fun.

Leave me some reviews!

My heart and soul goes into every piece of writing I do, long or short!  
(Though this second part was longer than I expected)

If you need me, I'll be pulling my hair out.

Damn my need to have the perfect ending!

Stupid OCD...

K thnx bai!

Lulz.


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